


The Storm Coast

by Taijitu



Series: Dragon Age AU Where Cole Fucks [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Soft sex, ask to tag? its been a while for me, how do thing, i think, instances of Cole being a tiny bit of a shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:46:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24220783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taijitu/pseuds/Taijitu
Summary: “Warm, hot fingers in the shivering wind, as gentle as it is, but hurried. A secret scandal, hiding but not hidden, a lover’s game; will the storm come before we do?”
Relationships: Cole/Female Inquisitor
Series: Dragon Age AU Where Cole Fucks [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1803388
Comments: 6
Kudos: 99





	The Storm Coast

**Author's Note:**

> It took me a year to write this. Thankfully it's good. Cole deserves to get laid and be happy more. I respect the ace headcanons but I don't respect the 'soft babby uwu too pure for the dirty sex' ableist bullshit. But you know that.
> 
> Hope you like it soft and heartfelt, because that's what we got.

Sticky humidity made a comfortable night’s sleep impossible, but that was only when the Herald pitched her tent alone. One particular soul, while unable to change the weather, made waking up in the sweaty, clingy bedrolls a little more tolerable.

A clammy cheek nestled against her neck, wispy hair tickling her jaw. He was cool to the touch, but that didn’t surprise her in her barely-awake state, where everything made some sense. The kisses along her shoulder, on the other hand, kinda did surprise her.

She shifted against him with a sigh. Sweat rolled down, tickled her skin and speckled the bedroll. They were both a wet mess, and the Herald didn’t mind enough to do anything about it. She preferred to let her hand wander back and rest on his hip.

“Morning, you,” she murmured, smiling.

Cole chuckled against her neck. “Hello, stranger.”

She took a single, slow, deep breath, and turned to face him. He gave her just enough room to do it, then scooted in close again. One arm under hers, hand splayed over her back, and the other at her waist.

“New phrase? Where’d you hear that?” She asked, eyes shut and forehead touching his.

He thought a moment, summoned a memory he’d picked up. “He slides his helmet off, clutches her close with a kiss. Scent of lilac and smoke in her hair, he’s missed her, ‘Oh, Maker...’”

“Ah,” she smirked, and the tips of their noses touched. “You understood it when they said it. I’m proud!”

“It had been so long that they could have forgotten, but they didn’t forget,” he spoke, breath soft. “A comfortable jest, longing, loving... did I use it right?”

“You did,” she reached up and brushed stray wisps of wheat-blonde hair out of his eyes.

Cole’s smile split his face, wrinkled the corners of his eyes. He tickled her nose with his, nuzzled, then tilted just enough to bring their lips together.

Every time he kissed her, she felt the whole world fall away. Gone were the days of hesitation and second guessing. Their kisses were self-assured and unashamed after so many clumsy pecks stolen when no one was looking. Cole’s lips knew where to brush to make her heart stutter. His hands, though still trembling at times, knew how to rest at her hip, how to ease her armor loose.

The Herald sighed into him, cupped his neck and kissed him back at a gentle pace. He hummed, kissed her again, and she could feel him smile.

“You’re having a _very_ good morning,” she murmured between kisses. “To what do I owe this delight?”

“I saw you in the Fade,” he said, smiling, and stole another kiss. “We were in the tavern. You were dancing on the tables, swaying and spinning but stagnant, like a sculpture of a picture.”

She wanted to ask him if he’d danced with her in this dream, but Cole was doing such a good job of keeping her quiet.

The heat their bodies shared was dizzying, though not in an entirely pleasant way. Cole was intoxicating, but she needed to breathe fresh air.

He ended the kiss and gave her a little room; he must have felt her discomfort. “West. The sea meets the stones, crashing but careful. We can wash together.”

She stretched her arms up with a scrunched face. “Are... the others up yet?”

“Yes. The Iron Bull and Solas are looking for the mage in the hills.” He watched her stretch, blinking slowly and smiling.

She stopped. “They’re... you don’t mean they’re gone, do you? Without us?”

“Solas doesn’t like that we sleep together naked, but The Iron Bull is happy we do. ‘Boss deserves a break. Can’t believe the kid’s getting more ass this week than I am. Makes me proud.’”

She snorted. “Oh, Bull.“

“He did something kind for us,” Cole murmured against her neck. “I wish Solas didn’t disapprove.”

“Mmh... One day he’ll understand,” She carded her fingers through his hair, damp from sweat and humidity. “You’re more human every day.”

“Sera understands,” he said. “Sunken eyes and knobby fingers, hollow, haunting, but harmless. A secret smile, like honey in a stale cookie.”

She cupped his cheek. “Does that mean she’s being nicer to you?”

“A little,” he turned his face into her hand and nuzzled her palm. “But I can’t tell you any more. Not yet.”

The Herald nodded. “Yes. Let’s get clean together.”

* * *

Cool air’s embrace, like the waves against the hexagonal jutting cliffside, rushed over their salty skin and washed away their troubles. Though chilly in wake of the ever-oncoming storm, the sea was warm and welcoming. They knew it wouldn’t stay that way for long.

Under the small archway of stone that led to the wall of shaped pillars that rose out of the gravel, the two set fresh clothes and towels for when they were done. A solid rock sat on top of each stack to keep them from blowing away.

Out where the water was shallow, Cole stood up and breached the surface, shook his head once, scattering water. His hair plastered completely over his eyes, which gave him pause. Somewhere nearby, the Herald was giggling at him. That made him giggle too.

“It’s longer,” he murmured, pushing his hair back with both hands.

“It’s gorgeous,” she said. A stiff breeze made her shiver, and she crouched so the water came to her chest.

“Vivienne thinks it should be short,” he looked away as his hand drifted to hold his elbow. “‘Ratty like Ferelden peasants’, unbecoming of the Inquisitor’s suitor. If it won’t leave, it ought to look the part.’”

Her brow knotted. “Vivienne said that, did she. Well, fortunately my tastes are a bit different from hers.”

“You don’t think its... un-handsome.”

“It- what?” She shook her head. “I love it as I love everything about you. You need only change what you wish to change.”

He looked upon her as the waves rolled in and out, a warmth and fullness in his chest blooming for her. He waded to her and kneeled by her side, the water shielding them both from the wind.

“You would change nothing?”

He’d meant it to be more than a quiet plea, unheard beneath the roiling sea. _I’m not real, I don’t matter; you think I do._ But she heard it, she always heard him. She smiled, and it made the corners of her eyes wrinkle. It made Cole’s chest flutter, which always felt like a new phenomenon.

“Cole...” Her hands emerged from the water and held his face, light little touches on his chilled skin that made him suddenly feel so cherished, like silks and porcelain. “Compassion... How could anyone want to change someone like you?”

In her mind, her truth, Cole heard nothing contrary. She spoke with her heart to him, of him, and wanted for him. It sent him reeling, reaching for her hands to hold against his cheeks like she was all that kept him here. The Herald of Andraste, the one to whom nearly all of Thedas looked and listened to in these dangerous days...

_I’m real to her. I matter to her._

Her smile waned. She brushed the pad of her thumb below his eye. There was moisture, not from the sea or sky.

“Cole? What’s wrong?”

He gasped on a thought. Stepping closer, leaning in and brushing her cheek with a delicate kiss. “I’m so... glad, that Envy tried to take _your_ face.”

She blinked.

“... W-wait, I didn’t say it right. Forge– ah...”

“It’s alright,” she whispered, and kissed his cheek where his tear had rolled down. “If Envy had not attacked me, you would not have heard my fear. You would not have reached out, and we would never have met. Is that what you meant?”

Cole sighed, smiled, and his shoulders fell. “Yes. Thank you.”

Their foreheads touched. She shifted to sit on her knees, still comfortably above water, and guided Cole closer. He followed willingly and rested a hand on her hip. So close, they could feel each other’s goosebumps. He touched his hip to hers, and they brushed one another, gently gasped.

“Cole...” She breathed, and brought their lips together.

He parted for her, tasted and touched her. Nothing in his life pulled so strongly as his heart pulled to her now, that he for a moment truly felt it would push through his chest.

The ocean rocked and swayed with the winds of the oncoming storm. The water lifted them up and fell, made them stammer for their footing, just enough to startle them from their trance. The Herald yelped and giggled, clung to Cole in such a way that suggested a helplessness she did not possess. He held her tight and pressed his heels into the rocks, grinned at her grin.

“We’re alright,” He said over the waves, sighing in his smile. “It wants us to move.”

“The ocean?” She smiled up at him with a giggle. “I suppose it doesn’t want us rubbing our dirt off in it.”

“It doesn’t mind that.” He slowly stepped backwards over the rough floor, guiding her along with him. “Things need to wash. But the storms are close now, and it wants to play.”

They climbed up onto the stone ledges as the waves got bigger. Their clothes and towels were on the other side, under the archway. For the moment, they were completely exposed, and quite chilly. Both the Herald and Cole huddled in on themselves and embraced, unable to stop smiling.

“I didn’t know that oceans played,” she murmured, their foreheads and bent knees touching.

“Everything plays,” Cole said, with a look that said, ‘silly Inquisitor’.

“Even the sea?”

“Yes. It dances and sways and spirals, down and up and down again. The ones that call it home dance with it. The ones that don’t are pulled away. It doesn’t realize.”

The Herald felt a weight in Cole’s words, a solemn understanding.

He tickled her nose with his. “Don’t be sad. The sea isn’t.”

She looked out across the coast, the ocean, and smirked to herself. “Can’t fault it for wanting to play.”

In that moment, an idea came to her independent of their conversation. Cole, in his fashion, saw it.

“Warm, hot fingers in the shivering wind, as gentle as it is, but hurried. A secret scandal, hiding but not hidden, a lover’s game; will the storm come before we do?”

She covered her mouth to keep from laughing too loud and wound up snorting obnoxiously. That last bit hadn’t been her thought. Bless Cole; he didn’t always understand double-meanings, but when he did, he was sharp with them.

He beamed. “I didn’t know people could play games with sex. It sounds like fun.”

“There’s a little nuance to it, I think, but...”

The Herald smirked at him, a mischievous thing, and put her hands against his shoulders, eased him into his back against the stones.

“I’m always happy to show you.”

Cole’s eyes widened with his smile, glistening under the cloudy sky. “Tell me how to play.”

“Goal of the game?” She leaned in and kissed along his jaw, nipped his ear. “Both of us have to come before the rain picks up. There’s only one rule; unless we feel the rain starting, we cannot rush it.”

“‘Special, secret, make it last forever,’” Cole murmured, his hands already running along her sides. “‘Thrilling, chilling, chilly, an intimate interlude, where it isn’t supposed to be.’”

“Oh yes,” she slipped between his legs and let their chests touch, so Cole wouldn’t be as chilly. “Sometimes when you pretend to break rules, like the rule that proper sex should only be in a bedroll, it makes things exciting.”

Cole’s gaze lost focus, his eyelids drooping. His back arched up to meet her, bare, scarred chest against hers and her breasts, arms around her, knees bent on either side of her hips. “Mmh... soft and warm, and perfect, and lovely. The cold stones, the wet, the sea smells mix with yours... this is real.”

She held his cheek. “ _You’re_ real. And isn’t that wonderful?”

“I love you.”

Like a blow to the chest, that statement. Every time it made her want to cry.

Cole’s smile faltered.

“In the good way,” she said quickly, smiling as tears welled up. “Just like you did.”

Relief softened his gaze.

She kissed his lips. “I love you too.”

His hug loosened, and he cupped her face, kissed her again.

(He knew he was allowed to do it, take more sometimes, and he had learned that that little bit of selfishness, that love of being loved, was okay.)

“Ah...”

She met his kiss with her own, heart fluttering alive. She caught his lower lip, then he angled them properly so he could kiss her more. It made her smile. He preferred angled kisses to the unevenly slotted ones. His words.

Just then he paused, blinked, and pulled back. “Oh. They found us.”

The Herald had but a second to process what he meant, when she heard a surprised, booming cheer and clap from above them.

She looked up. From atop the archway, The Iron Bull was having himself a proper laugh while Solas, just beside him, massaged his brow.

She tried not to feel too... well, exposed. Or embarrassed. Half of the people present weren’t. Even though she _was_ exposed, no shame would change that fact.

“See that? Now _that’s_ growth Solas,” Bull smacked the mage on the shoulder, nearly sending him off the ledge. “I told you they’d be fine.”

Cole peeked around the Herald to smile up at them and wave. “Hello!”

She bit off a snort.

“We _apologize_ for disturbing you,” Solas announced, readjusting his coat collar. “Bull and I were just heading back to camp.”

“Speak for yourself.”

Alright, she thought with finality. “I appreciate the well wishes, Iron Bull, genuinely, but I’m afraid I don’t do performances. We’ll meet you two at camp.”

Bull waved dismissively, albeit beaming ear to ear. “Show him a _real_ romp, Boss!”

“Try not to get caught in the rain,” Solas added, resigned to the sight before him.

Cole waved goodbye as they disappeared back over the archway.

The Herald knocked her forehead against the stone by his head.

“... Was that bad?”

She started laughing.

Cole relaxed and touched his cheek to hers. “You don’t have to laugh if it bothers.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” She sighed. “I simply... feel foolish, for thinking that that wouldn’t happen. Them finding us out here.”

“It bothers you a little.”

“Well, Solas refrained from making any unpleasant comments. So I’m not as bothered as I could be.”

“The Iron Bull is very happy,” He chuckled. “We should tell him every time we have sex.“

“We should _not,_ “ She pulled back to give him a full, playfully aghast look, and pressed a fingertip to his lips. “He will never stop doting on us both, then. Next he’ll try to give you _tips._ “

“Isn’t... that good?”

“Not from him yet. The Iron Bull sees sex _very_ differently from how you see it. I don’t think you’re there just yet.”

“The tender ties, knots they falsely fight, controlled, catering, carnal...”

“Yes. That.”

A beat. The waves crashed against the stones, sprinkling them both.

“Could I... _learn_ to see it other ways?”

“Yes,” She touched her forehead to his, combing his hair with her fingers. “Perhaps. But not now.”

He tilted up into her touches with a kitten-esque grin. “Ah- aah... keep doing that.”

“You like massages, do you?” She said with a kiss.

“It’s loud, and it blocks out the sharp things. It’s, sssso nice...”

“Just like you,” she kissed him again, his cheek, along his jaw, down his neck.

“That... tickles... keep doing it.” Cole all but melted under her, hands gently at her sides.

“Getting lost in the pleasantness, Cole?”

“I’m not lost...” He smiled, eyes slipping shut and moving her hair with one hand. “I know where I am.”

She had to rest her cheek against his chest for a moment and just smile up at him.

“You love when I say things like that,” he said, then paused thoughtfully. “‘A smile like sunbeams through rain. No one else I’d rather love, nowhere else I’d rather be.’”

She hummed.

“I love you too. You’re losing the game now.”

“Hmm?”

Cole flipped them, expertly and effortlessly, with that strength no one would know he possessed by looking at him. Now he loomed over her, straddling her, her back against the rocks.

He smiled. “I got you.”

She puckered her lips, unable to stop her blush. “Oh. You did.”

“You’re going to wiggle.”

“... I’m, what?”

He paused, thought a moment. “I think I said it wrong.”

No elaborating there, Cole simply leaned down and kissed the Herald’s neck, just under her chin. She relaxed under his touch.

He kissed and nipped, hand wandering to the sensitive places. She arched up a little, and he obliged her silent plea, cupping her breast and thumbing her nipple, rolling it with the side of his pointer. She sighed, and her breast twitched when she tensed.

(“They can move!?” He’d gasped the first time. She had laughed outright. “You have pectoral muscles too, Cole. See? Press your upper arm to your side. You can see your chest flex and relax.” “But yours are more... wiggly.” And she‘d laughed again.)

Cole paused his kissing to look down at them. He was slow but firm, side to side, enjoying how perked they were, be it from him or the cool air. Then a few quick, feather-light flicks. She tensed hard for that, and he liked how it made her breast bounce under his touch.

He didn’t linger too long though. A glimpse at her mind, her needing him; just enough to see when she started wanting something else.

“Oh,” he blinked, smirked. “You said we shouldn’t rush, but now you want me to.”

“Yes, you know me,” she muttered, squirming a little. “Just ignore me.”

“Okay.” His smile widened, and he leaned down.

She gasped as he latched his lips around her untouched nipple and sucked, tickled with his tongue, gentle for all of a second before being not gentle at all and her body _sang_ with a harsh need she didn’t know was so potent already.

“I-I said...!” she squeaked.

He popped off her breast with the biggest grin. “I am ignoring you. And rushing anyway.”

“Not that—“

He sucked on her nipple again, harder, squeezed with his lips and grazed with his teeth, and the Herald shrieked around a sharp breath.

Cole hummed low in this throat, eyes heavy when he looked up at her. “The sounds are raw, too real to restrain. You like hearing mine. But I want yours.”

She cocked a brow down at him, but she knew. “My what?”

“Your sounds,” he stated, knowing she knew, gaze heavy and voice deepened.

A hand unaccounted for was abruptly found as his fingertips tickled her thigh. She twitched in surprise, and Cole moved a knee between hers when she parted for him.

He smirked. “Thank you.”

“If you’re not careful, you won’t be the only one that hears my sounds,” she warned, a gentle hand lazily splaying her fingers over her lips. “I just told the Iron Bull that I don’t do performances.”

“But you like performing for me.” Cole’s smirk didn’t falter as he ran his palms along her sides.

“You’re getting cheeky.”

“But it’s true.”

“... Yes.”

He ran his hand over her belly, her thigh, then it dipped between her legs.

“Its different when its you,” he murmured, and leaned down right by her ear as his fingers played with her pubic hair. “Margarite uses the attic room when the soldiers ache. I hear when they touch her, high-pitched and heavy, but I don’t mind. They’re her sounds.”

Cole pushed her folds open and slipped a finger along her, finding her wet already. The Herald arched up against his hand and bit off a delighted whimper.

“There...” He practically purred. “It sounds so much _more_ when its you... scandalous, salacious, and _sensitive._ Sparks between my legs. You wanting me wanting you...”

“Cole...” She grabbed his arms with her nails as her knees bent on instinct.

“Yes?” He ran the back length of his finger along her, barely using any pressure, letting the roughness of his skin stimulate her.

“You’re... teasing me...”

“Yes.”

“Stop it.”

“Why?”

“Mmh...” she bit her knuckle. “I want you to fuck me.”

“I can’t hear you. Your knuckle is in your mouth.”

Right as she pulled her hand down, he ran the tip of his finger in an arc around her clit. She gasped, bucked and dug her nails into his arm.

“Ah! C-Cole!”

He chuckled. “Yes?”

“I’m gonna kick you!”

“No, you’re not.”

She buried her face against his neck. He kissed her cheek.

“I made you like this, quaking and quivering, wound tight in the middle. No one knows you’re this, your _this._ Sweet and sharp, but nice, like candy... Oh!”

Cole broke from his trance briefly, blinked, and smiled. “Is _that_ why she called herself Candy?” He paused, thought a moment. “I think I like you more.”

The Herald wasn’t sure she could blush any harder.

He swirled his finger around her clit again and again, only barely touching. Her hips canted and she bit off moan.

“Much more.”

“When... did you get so... cheeky.”

He kissed her cheek again and swirled his fingers. She practically bloomed for him with helpless, soft whimpers, rolling with his motions. It wasn’t long before she hooked a twitching leg around his hips.

“Cole, love... please don’t make me beg.”

She felt him smile against her hair. “Alright.”

The ocean churned and crashed against the rocks, spattering them with cool water as Cole picked the Herald up and moved her back against the stone faces.

“I like this way,” he murmured, kneeling, facing the stone and settling her in his lap. “It feels... closer. Intimate.”

“I can see that,” she hooked her ankles around his waist. “I don’t have much leverage though.”

“Are you warm?”

She had to smile at that. “Yes. But it’s easy to be warm with you around. You... do that to me.”

“I do lots of things to you.” He settled his hands on her hips proper.

She nodded, and the waves crashed up again, spraying Cole’s back with a fine mist of ocean water.

He let his palms lay flat against her skin, touched her and by her. Felt the texture of each crease and stretch mark, each bump and scar, all her little perfections. He always needed to know her more, remember her shape a little better. He never wanted to forget, and that’s how it dawned on him.

“The love...” Cole breathed, touching her forehead with his, “It was the love that made it real...”

“Hmm?”

“I didn’t understand why before, but now, I think I do.”

She brushed his bangs out of his face. “Understand what, Cole?”

“Desire.”

There was more he wanted to say, _so_ much more, but they would be here for a long time if he did. The storm was coming. They needed to first.

He lifted her up against the stone, pinning her between himself and it, one hand grabbing beneath her flank to give her some feeling of support. His other hand slipped between her legs again. Her pleased gasp made him smirk. Only a little bit of toying outside before he slid his fingers back and inside.

“Mmmh—!” She bit down on his shoulder, shifted and squirmed in his hands.

“Ah—... Fleeting, fluttering first, then gently. ‘No, please, let it burn, like the first time in the cots’,” he murmured right in her ear. “I don’t want that again. It shouldn’t hurt, even if you like it.”

Cole eased his fingertips inside as he felt her muscles relax. Out, then in again, coating himself with her fluids and taking his time.

She whined on a bitten lip and tried to push her hips down. He kept reading her thoughts.

“Chapped fingertips clutch the brim of his hat as he tries not to cry. ‘How easily he folds beneath my lips. ‘More, more, please, Herald I beg you, I can’t take it!’ Maker, this is revenge. That’s almost _devious._ ‘ Revenge is what a demon does. And I am _not_ a demon.”

As his fingers pushed deeper into her, he crooked his fingers a little. She gasped.

“I am more here now, but I don’t want to change my nature.” He almost sounded... matter-of-fact about it.

Cole slid a second finger inside, coated it faster than the first and buried them to the knuckle, smirking as he felt her muscles feather around him.

“I am, and always will be, Compassion.”

He suddenly curled and uncurled his fingers as hard as he dared. She outright yelled, a vulgar, wanton cry almost lost to the sea as her whole body seized on him.

He chuckled. “This is a lot of fun.”

The Herald, struggling to find words, glared at him sidelong as hard as she could.

He beamed at her. “No you don’t.”

She buried her face against his neck.

“Ah... it’s, v-very heavy now.” He looked down between them, though he couldn’t see it. “The ache is so strong... b-but I didn’t notice.”

His cock, full and tight and flushed, twitched, tapping her flank from below.

“Ah— s-sensitive...”

“Please Cole... I want you.”

“Yes... it wants you, too.”

He leaned back a bit so the Herald could reach between them. Carefully, she lifted his cock by the base, dragging the head up her folds. An unplanned tease, but Cole’s light moan didn’t make her sorry for it.

“Our thoughts...” He squeezed his eyes shut as she nestled the head against her entrance. “Our thoughts sound alike at this part... wanting but waiting, anticipation, shallow gasps, like drowning.”

The waves crashed and sprayed them again.

“I wouldn’t... say that when the ocean’s... right there.”

“Shallow?”

“Drowning...”

“It won’t try to. Not on purpose.”

Cole eased his hips forward, barely applying pressure. She exhaled, tried to relax her muscles for him. He cupped her cheek with a gentle smile.

“‘Let him in, let it happen, can’t even control my own body,’ it’s alright. Thinking makes it hard. You could think about me instead.”

He kissed her and slipped his fingers into her hair. She sighed against his lips and tried taking his advice. Feeling his fingers against her scalp, the smell of his sweat mixed with the seawater.

(He had quirked his head when she first said it, resisting her tugging his arm towards the bath. “Spirits don’t stink.” “But young men do, and you have gone adventuring with us for weeks at a time without so much as a hint of soap touching your skin! Dirt, blood, sweat, and who knows what else. It’s a wonder you can sneak up on anyone smelling like you do.”)

She loved his scent, so unlike any other, but not in the traditional sense. Everyone smells unique, but Cole was like the air just before a lightning bolt strikes, and something else she recognized but had no name for. It made her weak.

“There...”

Cole panted against her lips and slid inside her, shuddering, her muscles relaxed and giving way.

The Herald let her tight gasps be heard, gripping his shoulders hard enough to bruise. Once she could feel him filling her, she clenched around him on instinct. Tension she always carried, impossible to stop.

“Ah... a-ah...” Cole panted between held breaths, gaze unfocused. “A-always... s-so... much... i-in one s-spot... all b-bundling together, like s-ss-swiping a spider’s w-web up- up around my f-fin-finger...”

“Still, lover,” she murmured to him, cupped his face and pecked his cheek. “Breathe and stay still.”

“I am...” He flinched, curled his spine and pressed his chest to hers without moving his hips an inch. “B-But you’re fluttering...”

“Ah...”

“It wants me to move... _I_ want me to move.” His voice cracked.

“Will you be alright?” She smoothed his damp hair back, held his cheeks so they could look at each other.

He chuckled, breathless and airy, and genuine. “Always worrying... wavering hands on my heart. ‘What if Solas was right?’ I am me. The feeling is heavy, and sometimes loud, but it cannot change me. Even if it gets so loud that I can’t hear anything else. I don’t let it block the parts that keep me here.”

The Herald closed her eyes, and nodded once. “Alright. I trust you.”

“Thank you.”

They kissed, softly, slowly, and for a moment, far more intimately. There was an understanding that carried, a promise in their lips, a memory, a feeling. The spirit who had reached out, and a Herald who had taken his hand. The leader who had offered a way, and a lost soul who had followed.

They parted for air.

“May I... try to move?”

“Ahuh...? Oh, yes, yes of course,” she almost laughed.

He pressed his palms flat against the stone behind her and braced so she could use his arms as leverage. She did, hooking her fingers around his wrists and holding on.

His first few rocks against her were gentle, testing the position. Cole’s gaze passed through her but he was focused, listening to her mind for any pain. His wish to see her unhurt was stronger than any pleasure or release his own body demanded. Especially when she allowed him the control.

“I’m alright, Cole,” She murmured, cradled his cheek. “I would like this to be for you as well as for me.”

“Mmh...” He closed his eyes, nuzzled her hand with a tight brow. “It is, I am. I...”

“You worry for me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Do you remember the thing I said last time?”

Cole said nothing for a moment. He closed his eyes, then nodded. “I remember.”

“Good man.” She gripped his wrists, leveraged herself with him, readied. “Now then. Show me how passionate Compassion can be.”

Cole paused, blinked, then broke into a sudden bright laugh.

His tempo was slow but solid, hips snapping against her on the second. The Herald gasped, then bit her lip with little hums and whimpers she hoped he could hear over the ocean. Not overwhelming, not edging, but exactly right. He was perfect for her, made her feel so nicely full, such pressure, hitting right where she needed it...

“... filling me up, finding me, firm and final and faster. ‘Maker, he always fucks me so gently. I didn’t know I could love it, long for it, long for him, inside and all around.’ A half-bitten smile where it’s familiar, but it isn’t. But it’s better now because I _made_ her smile—“

She touched a fingertip to his lips. He gasped and fell silent immediately, hips stammering still.

“Sorry... it’s, harder when I’m a part of the hearing...”

“It’s alright, nothing wrong. Just... let yourself feel. Talk too much and you’ll be out of breath faster.”

Cole nodded. “I can try... Quietly, quickly, feel it all over... losing but never lost myself... Ah. Sorry. You like hearing my voice, but... Bodies think without thoughts. Spirits don’t; that’s why it’s harder.”

“Would it be easier for you to talk?”

“Yes, but I want to try feeling. Only feeling.”

She had to smile. Always so eager to learn, to please her. She would make it up to him later, she thought, let him whisper in her ear as she touched herself, or him, hear the strings of poetry tumble from his mind and mouth while pleasure pushed them over.

“Oh—!”

Cole choked on a gasp, hips quivering as he snapped deeper, gaze unfocused but wide.

“Oh... ! That... yes, that... I-I-I would like that...”

Her smile sunk into a smug little smirk. She grabbed his shoulders and rolled against him, clung close with her thighs and ankles, and Cole whined, grabbed her hips and held tight. This time, his pace wasn’t as slow.

He looked into her eyes, their foreheads pushed together, his gaze heavy with want, lips parted, loose and swollen from their kissing and biting. His adorable overbite. She needed to kiss him again.

Their lips, his on hers all at once, breathing in every moan, every cry, every animalistic croak of sex from their quickly rasping throats. She could feel heat, the pleasure from their fucking at its apex, but not quite enough. She needed touch.

Cole’s kisses got sloppy, until a bead of drool slipped down his chin and he gave up on neatness altogether. His head by hers, clammy cheeks squished, warmth, a hug without arms. He didn’t let himself think, he could only feel, and he felt like he was going to burst if his body didn’t get what it wanted.

The Herald shoved a hand into Cole’s hair and pressed her fingertips against his scalp, her other hand pushing down between them to rub herself as he flinched up into her.

So much feeling, so many thoughts, he couldn’t voice them if he’d wanted to; it was all so fast. He could barely keep up with his own. Her body cradled him like it was made to hold him, inside, and like she never wanted to let him go, outside. Just like their first time. Always clinging close and gripping it like a noose, only the noose felt like euphoria, not stabbing and cotton in the lungs—

Bite. Teeth on his neck. She was squealing and clenching and wavering around him, around _it,_ drawing him in while her hand wiggled furiously between them. Cole’s breath hitched, his throat clamped shut as she bit into his neck and came around him. It hurt, it hurt so much but she didn’t even know she was doing it and suddenly everything was stronger, hotter, higher, and his body flashed bright like fireflies when she dug her nails into his scalp, afraid he might not be there when she opened her eyes.

It hurt, but in a way, it didn’t, and his body asked for more. Was this why people did the sharp things together when they made love? The things that hurt so nicely?

No thinking right now. His body wanted more of that, wanted to taste that strange new sensation. Her mind was slowing, slipping into the glowing, but she didn’t want him out, not yet. Like before, she wanted him even when she was satisfied.

He pulled her thighs in close and held firm as he fucked her into the stone cliff, chasing his own coming, those fireflies.

“Bite—!” He gasped into her ear, barely a breath, rocking into her like the waves behind them.

She whimpered in delight, wrapped an arm around his back and bit his shoulder again.

“A-aahn—!!” He stuttered, everything stuttered, suddenly red with the feeling but not fear or blood but _sex,_ red like _sex,_ like swollen skin flush with feeling, rosy cheeks and rosier lips and _oh those other lips could be rosy too—_

“Co-ooole...”

The Herald whined like honey, right by his ear where it went straight down his spine and between his legs, and he was all at once over the precipice. The pleasure puppeteering his body rolled up through him, built against the edge and burst through him like a blooming flower. He snapped as deep as he could go, hunched over her harshly and cried, loud enough to be heard over the crashing waves. Flinching, sobbing with every spurt, pleasure fraying every nerve in his body.

And then, the glowing.

Humid air layered over them like damp blankets. Warm rain pattered the stones, and them. Somewhere, a bird was chirping to its beloved. Gentle winds made the trees dance.

The Herald giggled.

Cole, after a breath, giggled too.

“We both lost the game, I think.”

“We did.”

A particularly harsh wave hit the cliffside and completely doused them both. The Herald shrieked, laughing.

* * *

“Why did the pain feel good?”

They ambled their way along the beach together, washed properly this time and in their fresh clothes, only the rain had soaked them before they could get dressed, so it didn’t matter anymore If they hurried. So they walked back to camp, sometimes holding hands for a bit, sometimes climbing the driftwood.

“You’ve never encountered a couple that played with pain?” The Herald asked, walking alongside the chalky tree trunk as Cole crept along it, crouching to be closer to her.

“I have, but I didn’t understand. I still don’t, not really.”

“The pain felt good. Sometimes pain and pleasure can mix and it works... A bite, a bruise, even a cut.”

He hopped down from the end, the fanning of deep roots picked clean of dirt long ago.

“But pain is pain. It’s how you know when things are wrong and need to be stopped. It isn’t supposed to be good.”

She thought for a moment. “ You know how Leliana and Josephine have cookies with their morning tea sometimes?”

“Yes. Caramel sugar cookies with salt, just a pinch, sprinkled on top. A taste that’s wrong but right, both sharp _and_ bright. They don’t change for each other, but they don’t need to. Together there is strength, and they flourish.”

“Yes! Pain and pleasure work like that, too.”

“Like, Leliana and Josephine?”

“The caramel and salt cookies.”

“Oh. Sharp and bright? The pain still hurts but, it’s... not wrong?”

“Just like the salt stays salty, but tastes good with the caramel. Sometimes things that you wouldn’t normally mix together work well.”

He fell in step with her and took her hand. “I would be afraid to cause you pain. You might not like it.”

“What if I asked you to?” She wove her fingers with his.

“I don’t know.” He squeezed her hand, glanced down at it in his. “You shouldn’t want to feel pain...”

“This is lighter than that, Cole. Like the scratch you would give an itch. Like when I bit you. You don’t need medicine or bandages for that, it didn’t traumatize you.”

“What about the bruises I left on your hips?”

“Good aches. They’ll hurt later, but I’ll be smiling.”

“Stormy blues and blacks aching like a lover’s fingers pulling you harder. Sweet whines in a salty sea. Touch them, and they remember me.”

She smiled to herself, cheeks pinker. “I could never forget you.”

“A pain that makes you ache for more, stirring the want like waves over settled silt.”

“Careful, you,” She teetered close enough to kiss his cheek. “Those poetic words also churn my waters.”

He blinked when she kissed him and smiled, subtly. “Ah... I’m so different to you. People see me and get scared, but you don’t.”

“You’re not scary to me.” She rubbed his hand with her thumb as they approached the hillside their camp sat on.

“Sometimes when you dream I’m scary, but you like that too. You like all the me’s.”

She casually glanced at him, sidelong with a smirk. He was smiling at his feet, so much she could almost see his teeth.

“You deserve to be as happy as you make others.”

He looked up at her, and she let him see her smile when she squeezed his hand. He squeezed back.

“Hey!” The Iron Bull stepped into view as they neared the hilltop. “There you are. Solas was getting all huffy.”

“Worried.” Came Solas’ firm voice from farther in.

“Hello again, The Iron Bull—” Cole said, slipped on a muddied rock pile and almost fell flat had Bull not caught him by the back of his shirt.

“Whoa whoa, watch the path. The dirt gets dicey after this much rain, kid. Better stay in the grass.”

Cole, half suspended, blinked.

The Herald grabbed his hand and helped him gain his footing back so Bull could let him go.

Solas, from his seat in the tent, flaps pinned wide open so he could see them, lifted his cup of tea. “Lest you need a...” He looked to the Herald and cocked a brow, “Third? Bath? I presume?”

He sipped. Bull smirked.

“It wasn’t our fault,” Cole tried wiping the dirt off his feet in the grass. “We lost the game. The storm came before we could come.”

Solas choked, tea bubbled from his lips and he coughed. Bull barreled out an incredulous laugh and ruffled Cole’s dripping hair.

The Herald’s lips pressed tight with a blank, wide gaze.

Cole slowly pushed his hair aside. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Not really,” she muttered, suppressing her own laughter.

Solas looked like he had his own thoughts on the matter as he wiped up his tea, but as Bull passed his tent, he unpinned one of the flaps. Solas shouted as the heavy fabric nearly smacked him.

She put a hand to her face and shook her head, chuckling to herself. This was some kinda weird, this family.

“So! What else did you and Boss do before the storm came?”

“Bull.”

“She bit me and I liked it.”

“Ah— Cole!”

**Author's Note:**

> If anything Cole said went over your head, just ask.
> 
> I was vague about the Inquisitor on purpose.
> 
> I hope to write more Cole smut. Won't be as good as this probably but, y'know. Cole smut. Because he, and we, deserve it.
> 
> Don't forget to comment, losers. <3


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